


Drunken shenanigans

by Magpietoes



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, Sass, Violence, Whirl Being Whirl, Whirl's got issues, actually everyone's got issues but let's not dwell on that, could be seen as harrasment, flirting? is it flirting?, just a little bit, mature themes, night out, or the equivalent anyway, silly short chapters due to accidental pov shift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpietoes/pseuds/Magpietoes
Summary: A Secret Solenoid gift to @SpaceWeeb on Twitter
Relationships: Arcee/Whirl (Transformers)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Secret Solenoid '19-'20





	1. Chapter 1

The bar was full, bustling with bots of every affiliation or lack thereof. Maccadam’s Old – New? New about three or four times over by what Whirl had gathered of the chatter around him – Oil House was back in business. Blurr had recently relocated his establishment on to Metroplex in the wake of the devastation caused by Shockwave’s grand plan – a plan that had brought on the unexpected outcome of Megatron declaring himself an Autobot! Whirl didn’t know what to make of it. Well, he didn’t know what to make of much anything as of the last couple of weeks. The war ending had thrown him bad enough. Megatron’s reappearance had at least given him hope of getting back to doing the one thing he was good for, but now? Whirl was in limbo. With nothing to busy himself with he had way too much time to think and nothing good ever came of _that_ so he had made an earnest effort to spend as little of that time as possible sober. He sipped the last of his cup of Engex, idly wondering if there was a way to collapse himself into a black hole like Shockwave had ended up – now _that_ was a badass way to go out if Whirl ever heard of one – when a quarrel broke out at the next table over.

The red and white bot had her back to him and the music drowned out the words exchanged between her and whoever she was arguing with, but her tone was one of a grave warning. Intrigued, Whirl sidled closer. If there was going to be a fight, he was not about to miss the front row view. The red and white bot – Arcee, was it? – was getting increasingly riled up as her opponent pressed on. Big, clunky and green, that was definitely one of the Constructicons. Behind him were two of his companions, laughing among themselves and watching the argument.

Something was said about a last time. Now _this_ was promising, Whirl though. Old grudges and some high-grade made for a prime setup for a fight. He situated himself behind Arcee, settling in to wait for the inevitable breaking point of either parties’ patience. He raised his glass to drink only to find it empty already and let out a disappointed whine. While watching a drunken brawl was fun at any time, watching one while having a drink of his own was about infinitely better. Way to go, Whirl from about ten minutes ago, slurping up the stuff before all the fun started! He was reluctant to leave his spot now. What it they started before he was back? Luckily, on the table there sat a barely touched, currently ignored glass as if meant for him. Whirl inched closer, claws spreading to seize his prize but instead he himself was grabbed by the wrist.

“Keep that hand to yourself, unless you want to lose it!” Arcee growled, not taking her eyes off the Constructicon.

Whirl scoffed.

“Way ahead of ya, sister.”

Over her shoulder Whirl could see the Constructicon go silent with surprise, which then prompted her to turn and look at Whirl.

“Oh,” she simply uttered and let go of his wrist.

“Oh?” Whirl echoed.

“Oooh, now she’s done it,” the Constructicon cackled.

“Claws to yourself, then, or you’ll lose that too,” Arcee growled.

“Wow, insensitive much?”

Arcee stared at him, bewildered.

“At least I have the sense of not swiping others’ drinks!”

Whirl was making good headway letting himself be swept into the argument when the Con she was originally arguing with took the opportunity to push Arcee into him. Whirl barely caught her snarl before she was already off him, springing up and decking the Con square in his jaw, knocking him off balance. His aft had barely hit the floor before the two other Constructicons were upon her, the clamor starting to draw attention across the bar. Whirl didn’t lose much time joining the fray via a flying kick over Arcee’s head and into the chest of one of the Cons after he had managed to stagger her.

“I don’t need your help, claws!” she spat out.

“Help?! I aint helping nobody! This rustbrain– “ Whirl yelled back, punching said rustbrain in the face hard enough to crack his visor, “ –stole my fight!”

“Your fight?”

“With you!”

“What?!“

“For being rude!”

“Oh for the love of –“ She kicked one of the Cons hard into his midsection and when he doubled over, delivered a precision strike into the back of his neck triggering his transformation sequence just as another one rushed Whirl. He ducked barely in time, a massive fist grazing his antenna as he dropped down. From there it was an easy task to thrown the much heavier mech whose own missed swing had pulled him off balance. He landed on his back with a resounding clang, spitting curses that were cut short as his companion’s massive truck form landed on top of him with a very satisfying crunch. The crowd cheered.

The last Constructicon standing bellowed with rage, furious red optics burning through the cracks in his visor. Whirl and Arcee turned as one to face him and the Con hesitated, glancing at his fallen brethren, then around him but help was not coming.

“Slag this!” he finally growled, backing off. “I- I have better thing to do!” He slunk off, a menacing glance not quite shutting off the laughter brewing in the crowd.

“Wooo!” Whirl exclaimed, arms up in victory. “Not so big without yer pals, huh?!”

“Good riddance,” Arcee scoffed. She turned to face Whirl, fists up and engine rumbling. “Well?”

Whirl stared. Oh, right, he was meant to fight her. But he already kind of finished and now it was awkward. He giggled, making Arcee frown.

“Now you, I like,” he said, “I’m not sure if I oughta punch you in the face or buy you a drink!”

“I don’t think we have time for either,” she huffed, gesturing towards two large mechs making their way through the crowd. “Looks like Blurr’s bouncers finally got off their cans.”

When she turned back, Whirl was gone. She spun around but was halted with a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” the bouncer said. “You’re disturbing the other customers.”

“The disturbance has already been taken care of.” Arcee gestured towards the Cons on the floor, “So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to my drink and –“ her optics widened as she locked eyes with Whirl who was in the middle of downing the drink in question, waving happily at her.

“I can’t believe–“ She started angrily towards him but was held back by the bouncer who signaled his colleague and pointed in Whirl’s direction.

“That’s enough. You need to leave, now.”

“You weren’t in any hurry to intervene when those boltheads started making trouble. Friends of yours?”

“This is your final warning,” the bouncer continued, ignoring her protests. “Exit the premises, or we will call the police.”

“Hmph! Save yourselves the trouble. I’ll see myself out.” She yanked herself free from the bouncers hold, marching angrily away.


	2. Chapter 2

Arcee had barely made it halfway across the street when Whirl was thrown out the door, shouting profanities all the way before landing face first in a pile of Engex crates on the sidewalk.

“ – and stay out!” the other bouncer called after him before slamming to door shut behind himself. He was sporting a fresh, suspiciously claw-shaped dent on his faceplate.

Arcee watched the blue mech clamber to his feet, kicking a crate over and making empty Engex bottles roll all over the sidewalk as he did so. He then seemed to chance his mind and crouched down, picking a bottle and holding it up to his optic before throwing it in the street and picking up another one.

“My pint wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

Whirl glanced up at her before turning his optic back to the bottle, which like its predecessor turned out to be indeed empty.

“It was watered down anyway” he grumbled, tossing the bottle away.

Arcee arched a brow, placing her hands on her hips as she regarded the mech bringing yet another bottle up for inspection. “Not the apologizing type, are you?”

“’s a shame to let a drink go to waste,” Whirl muttered. “Figured you wouldn’t be getting back to it.”

“That’s very insightful coming from someone hoping to find free booze sitting outside the only bar in town.”

Whirl gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Guess you have a point there.” He threw the last bottle away, almost hitting someone driving by in the street. The four-wheeler swerved to the side, his tires screeching on the metal.

“Watch it, one-eye!” he shouted angrily but didn’t bother to stop, disappearing behind the next street corner.

“Slaggin’ missed,” Whirl grumbled after him.

“You really are a troublemaker, aren’t you?”

“I’m a bot of simple tastes. Like a good fight, like a good drink; that’s me.”

“Well, good luck finding yourself another fight then, I guess,” Arcee said, turning to leave.

“We could still have a go,” he suggested hopefully, standing up.

“Forget it. The night’s already lousy enough without having to spend it in the drunk tank for public disturbance.” That, and Prowl was the absolute last person she wanted to deal with right now.

“I guess I _am_ still too sober to not care,” Whirl muttered in agreement. “Welp, gotta fix that.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that? This is literally the only bar in the city.”

“Only one in the city, maybe,” Whirl narrowed his optic slyly, “but not the only one on the _planet_.” He gestured towards the _Lost Light_ sitting at dock in the distance.

“Your ship has a bar?”

“Duh. ‘s the heart of the whole shebang!”

“Well then,” she smiled, “looks like you’re going to have to buy me that drink after all!”

“I’ve made no such promise!”

“You kind of did, actually.”

“I might still decide to just punch you,” he argued, transforming and taking off towards the docks. Still, Arcee noted, he flew low, making no effort to shake her off.

It was a short drive, or flight in Whirl’s case. They were almost there when Whirl suddenly cursed, slowed down abruptly and landed haphazardly behind a cargo container sitting on the dockyard.

“What’s up?” Arcee asked, driving up to him.

Whirl transformed, pressing against the container and peeking around the corner. “Scrap. It’s Ultra Magnus!”

Arcee transformed and crouched down next to him, also taking a look. The large-framed bot was standing at the closed crew entry door.

“So?”

“Ultra Magnus,” Whirl simply repeated a bit slower.

“I know him. Why is it a problem?”

“You obviously don’t _know_ him them,” Whirl huffed.

“Is he not going to let us in? You’re part of the crew, right?”

“I am, and he hates it. Calls me a disruptive presence, a walking affront to the Autobot code, bad for crew morale and so on. He’s an all-purpose spoilsport and –“

“A decent judge of character, right” Arcee blurted out and Whirl gave her a stare blank even on empurata standards. She stared back, equally expressionless. She almost– scratch that, very much expected Whirl to decide he thirsted more for a fight than a drink after all but he made no move to attack her.

“Ouch,” he simply uttered in a mock-hurt tone and turned back to spy at Magnus. “But yeah, I don’t think he’s gonna welcome us in.”

“Even if you literally live on the ship?”

“You _really_ don’t know him.” He was silent for a while, claw tapping against one of the prongs jutting out from the underside of his optic casing. He turned back to Arcee, optic narrowed in contemplation.

“Say, how bad do you want that drink?”

“After putting up with you this far?” she smirked. “Pretty bad.”

“Hold that though, then. I have an idea. “


	3. Chapter 3

Morbid curiosity, Arcee decided, was the only reason she was going through with this as she staggered up the ramp, Whirl’s arm slung over her shoulders. Magnus’ expression soured as they approached.

“Heyyy, Magnus!” Whirl hooted cheerfully as they made their way to the top platform. Magnus rolled his optics, muttering something under his breath. Whirl stopped in front of the closed door, looking it up and down. “The door’s closed,” he observed.

“Yes, Whirl, it is.”

“Uh, open the door? Stop having it be closed.”

“No.”

“No? Why– What’s your problem?”

“You are,” Magnus stated, humorless. “What do you think you’re doing? As article 83, section 22, sub-section 5 of the Autobot code _clearly_ states, any person, crewmember or not, if inebriated, is liable to be denied entry aboard any military craft until such time that he may be again deemed fit for service.”

“What?” Whirl slurred, squinting at him.

“Paragraph 9, as you _should_ know.”

Arcee couldn’t help letting out a quiet burst of laugh in disbelief. She had thought Whirl had exaggerated Magnus’ by-the-book attitude but apparently that wasn’t the case. He really _was_ like that! Magnus scowled at her. After a moment Whirl laughed too.

“Good old Magnus! Almost had me there,” he cackled, “The _Lost Light_ ain’t a warship! See, I passed your test! Now can we go in?”

“Technically, it can be considered one,” Magnus corrected him. “While not currently on a campaign, it is outfitted with military-grade weaponry and operated by military personnel. And no, that was not a test.”

“Aww, come on Mags…”

“And _that_ is _not_ a correct way to address a superior officer!”

“Can’t you just let us in? I’m tryna be a gentleman here!”

Magnus squinted, obviously trying very hard to find this gentlemanly quality about Whirl.

“I’m taking her back to my place,” Whirl explained, “you know?” He nudged her and Arcee draped herself against him for emphasis, letting out what she hoped was a convincingly drunken giggle and flashing Magnus a smile as vapid as she could manage. Whirl leaned a bit toward Magnus and blinked his optic slowly. “This is me winking, by the way,” he loudly whispered to him, “’s kinda hard with just one optic.”

Magnus hesitated for a moment before continuing. “In reference to bringing non-crew persons on board, as stated in article 8, section 22, sub-section 4, paragraph 18, a written permit must be obtained from the commanding officer beforehand. Therefore –”

“Oh for – Where’s Rodimus then?”

“Out,” Magnus grimaced, “Drinking, presumably. Which leaves _me_ the highest-ranking officer present. Now, I suppose you’ll want to fill out this application form,” he continued, already digging out a datapad.

“O Primus, take me now!” Whirl wailed. “Pits, Magnus, do I have to spell it out? We gonna bump uglies. Check the oil. Imma fill her out like an application –“

“Oh we’ll see about who puts what and where,” Arcee cut in with a predatory smirk. She gave Whirl’s antenna a firm yank, drawing a surprised yelp from him.

“ –Hnngh! And we gonna bang! Frickle-frackle! In-ter-face!” Whirl chanted, bouncing on his pedes.

Magnus gasped. “That is highly inappropriate!”

“Sexually,” Whirl added for good measure.

Magnus seemed to suffer a sudden malfunction of his vocalizer. Whirl took the chance to prattle on.

“C’mon, Mags, how often do ya think a guy like me has the chance to get laid? Not a whole lot, I’ll tell ya. So I’m tryna do it right, you know? Make like a proper gentleman, take her back to my place instead to just… going to town in the middle of the town, right? That being said,” he put an arm around Arcee’s waist and pulled her close, “I promised my lady friend here a good time and by Primus a good time she shall have! In my room, or out. Like, out here _. Right_ here.”

Arcee grit her teeth and let out a strained giggle, stroking a finger up the side of Whirl’s helm.

“Yeah right, sweetspark, you’d be down for that, huh? You’re in luck, Ol’ Whirly-bird here is a bit of a back-alley action expert!”

He leaned in close to and whispered, “Give me a kiss!”

Arcee stared daggers at him.

“Anywhere is fine!” he encouraged. “Come on, it’ll seal the deal! We’re _this_ close to breaking him!”

She grimaced, turned to flash a sly smile at the mortified Magnus and gave a quick peck to one of Whirl’s prongs.

Whirl _moaned_ and in that moment the only thing that saved him from a punch right into his optic was the hissing sound of a door hatch opening.

“Inside. Now.” Magnus fumed.

Arcee was off Whirl’s chassis in an instant, leaving the bot to stagger against empty air before she grabbed his wrist with a crushing grip and pulled him through the door.

“Cheers!” Whirl called out at Magnus, throwing in another Whirl wink™ as the door slid shut behind him. Arcee waited for about a nano-klik before grabbing him by that weird, whippy neck of his and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Ooooo, eager –“

“You pull another stunt like that, you’re gonna lose the rest of your head,” she hissed. “Clear?”

“You better stop dirty-talking me like that then!”

Arcee growled and slammed him into the wall again, hard, making his vocalizer crackle out static. He put up his arms in defeat. “Fine, fine! I was just –“ He was cut off by a frantic knocking from the door. Magnus’s exasperated face was peeking through a porthole window. He was mouthing something Arcee didn’t bother trying to make sense of.

Whirl waved at him in a _give-us-some-privacy_ -kind of way. Magnus was having none of it. Both their comm channels were pinging insistently.

“You better get that,” Arcee suggested in a tone that left no room for arguments. Whirl sighed and flicked his commlink open.

“Yo Mags –“

“GO TO YOUR ROOM WHIRL!” Magnus growled across the comm. “AND IT’S ULTRA MAGNUS TO YOU! AS THE DULY APPOINTED ENFORCER OF THE TYREST ACCORD I EXPECT TO-“

“Yadda yadda,” Whirl muttered turning the comm channel off. “We better get going before Mags decides to throw us in the brig after all.”

“Please tell me we are done with this stupid charade.”

“Relax. Big guy there might be a stickler for the rules but pretty much nobody else gives a flying frick about anything. Well, Rung might but he’s just gonna give you a disapproving look and maybe go _hmmphhff_ if he’s really upset. It’s funny really, his eyebrows do this thing and he would look super stern but he’s _tiny_ and –“

“Is this information relevant to reaching this bar of yours? If not, I really don’t care.”

“Right.”


	4. Chapter 4

Whirl led her through a series of empty hallways before stopping in front of and unmarked door.

“Ta-dah!” he announced, gesturing grandly. “Here we are! Our famous secret saloon, the best Engex joint this side of Hedonia, the heart and soul of the ship, the inner sanctum! I give you: Swerve’s!” He promptly kicked the door open and the chatter in the room quieted for about two nano-kliks before resuming like nothing had happened as Whirl strode in.

“Yo, Swervester!” Whirl hollered, making his way to the bar. Arcee walked slower behind him, taking in the room. The place actually looked rather nice.

“Whirl my dude for the hundredth time – and I’m pretty sure it _has_ actually been about that many – there is a perfectly good access pad out there. Right next to the door. Like there is with literally every door? Wink wink, nudge nudge?”

“Don’t try to cramp my style, shorty. Get me my usual.”

“Coming right up. But you know, Brainstorm would propably be happy to come up with some– Oh! Hello and welcome to Swerve’s! What can I– Wait, you’re Arcee, aren’t you?”

Arcee narrowed her optics. “Yes?”

“Remember me? Swerve! I was on that escape pod from Kimia! Back before the whole D-Void thing?”

“I… don’t think I took note.”

The falter in Swerve’s smile was barely perceptible.

“Well anyway! What can I get you?”

“What’s the fanciest thing on your menu?”

“That would be the house special! Nightmare Fuel with a dash of petrol and chilled Energon jelly!”

“Sounds good. Put it on Whirl’s tab.”

Swerve gawked at her like she had suddenly sprouted another head.

“He owes me,” Arcee explained. Swerve glanced at Whirl who was leaning against the bar, already getting well into his drink. He gave a short nod and Swerve set about preparing the drink.

“You know,” he mused, “it’s surprising enough for Whirl of all people to bring company, let alone someone like you.”

Arcee raised a brow at him. “Like me? Care to elaborate?”

“Like, someone famous! Well, _infamous_ rather! Knowing your reputation and knowing Whirl, you’re both remarkably… intact.” He handed Arcee her drink. “I bet even Rung gets the urge to punch him sometimes! How’d you end up tagging along with him?”

“It’s a long story…”

“It’s really not,” Whirl chimed in. “We kicked some Con aft at Maccadam’s, got thrown out and threatened Mags with P.D.A. until he let us in!”

Swerve laughed out loud. “You did what– Wait, _Magnus_ is at the door?!” He groaned. “No wonder it’s been a quiet night! He’s such a stick in the mud…”

“What’s with all the Cons, though?” Whirl muttered.

Swerve shrugged. “Must’ve gotten here before Magnus took it upon himself to make sure nobody else gets to have a good night.”

“No, I mean Cons! They’re Cons! Where our peeps at?”

Swerve shrugged, grimacing. “At Maccadam’s, I guess. But the only c-word I’m interested in is ‘customer’.”

“Pfft!”

“So long as everyone behaves, I don’t give a frick what colors they wear. Though don’t think you’ll be let off easy if you start any trouble!” He turned to Arcee. “You better not be carrying any guns, swords or briefcases! And if you are, keep them out of sight and everyone can keep having a good time!”

“Briefcases?” Arcee asked, confused.

“Yeah. Very important. But anyway, these folks fought the end of the universe together. If that don’t make ‘em comrades in arms I dunno what does.”

“After spending the last four million years murdering each other, I guess nothing less _would_ have brought everyone round.” She looked slowly around the room, sampling her drink. It was strong, bitter with just enough sweetness to balance it out. This Swerve guy really seemed to know what he was doing. The bar wasn’t nearly as packed a Maccadam’s had been, but there was a decent number of Cybertronians spread around the room. Bots and Cons, even a few NAILs all appearing to be happily getting along. Arcee remembered hearing of the original Maccadam’s Old Oil House in the early years of the war when the bar had been famous for catering to anyone regardless of affiliation. She had never visited, having been busy with… other things at the time. Now it seemed Swerve and Blurr both were carrying on the noble tradition of letting anyone stay as long as they could pay.

Over in a corner someone had climbed on a table, trying to get a drinking song going, quickly pulling a crowd. Arcee was content to stay at the bar sipping her drink. She was still getting used to being around so many people all the time, but this was… not bad. Not _easy_ , but maybe something she could learn to like. She wondered if all this would last long enough for that. Megatron’s upcoming trial was surely raising tensions below the surface. For now, people were likely making the most of the calm while they could.

She had been lost in thought for a while when she heard a strange sound beside her. She turned to see Whirl holding a claw up in front of his optic, peering through the gap before snapping it shut and making a sound mimicking an explosion under his breath before moving his claw a bit an repeating the gesture. Arcee stared, puzzled.

“What are… are you pretending to crush their heads?

“A bot can dream, huh?” Whirl slurred. “ _Kaboom._ ”

“Don’t mind him,” Swerve commented, “Nobody really gets Whirl. Heck, I don’t think even _Whirl_ gets Whirl sometimes.”

Arcee smiled, turning her back to Swerve and taking another sip of her drink. “Oh, but I think I do.”


End file.
